


Dark Angel Part II

by FlavorofKylo



Series: Dark Angel [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ben might be a switch lmfao, Dark Rey (Star Wars), F/M, Rey is a Bad Bitch, Sexual Tension, Soft Ben Solo, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24479953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlavorofKylo/pseuds/FlavorofKylo
Summary: This is a commentary on Part I of Dark Angel, from Rey's POV.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Dark Angel [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768219
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	Dark Angel Part II

**Author's Note:**

> I really like the idea of a strong, sexually confident Rey and how she would navigate this type of situation with Ben/Kylo as her professor. Hoping you enjoy!

Dark Angel – Part II 

Most men are assholes. Well, at least in my experience. Professor Ben Solo isn’t most men; he's different. I felt it on my first day of his class, and I was intrigued. 

I remember that day well. He walked into the classroom just a few minutes late. There was a lot of chattering, but everyone chilled out right away when he came in. He does have a commanding presence, and his six-foot-two inches certainly play a role in that. He’s nicely built, too, and youngish—I knew he couldn’t have been more than thirty. His black hair was kind of long and shaggy, and he was wearing a button-down shirt and jeans, with sneakers. This is interesting, I thought. Most of the faculty gravitated towards jackets and ties, and dress shoes—maybe they thought it enhanced their authority. For me, it was the opposite: his casual attitude, calm demeanor and ability to conduct a discussion so well with a group of people he had never met showed intelligence, discipline, confidence, knowledge. In my mind, those are the things that make up authority; not a fucking title, and not a fucking suit. 

He sailed down the center aisle of the room, dropped his bag on the desk, and then sat on the edge. Most professors will stand at the lectern, or sit in the chair, or at least walk around, but not Ben Solo. His whole style was relaxed and congenial; he seemed more like a student than a professor. But once he started speaking about his subject, you could tell: he knew his shit. He also happened to be damn good looking--brains and beauty, a lethal combination. 

Anyway, as I said, I was intrigued. I went up to speak with him at the end of class. There were several other students up front, so I had to wait. While he spoke with the girl in front of me, Kaydel, his gaze drifted over her shoulder and his dark eyes ensnared me. He continued his conversation with Kaydel while his eyes roamed down my body. I wasn’t wearing anything special, just my usual leggings and Sex Pistols t-shirt. There was something about him; when he looked at me, I felt a tightness in my belly that made me press my thighs together. 

Kaydel left and I stepped forward. “Hello, Miss…?”

“Niima.”

“Yes, Miss Niima. How can I help you?”

“I was wondering when you have office hours? I just switched majors and I need some guidance with my schedule.”

It happened so fast, it almost didn’t register, but I saw it: his eyes skimmed over my breasts. It’s probably worth mentioning that I never wear a bra because they’re so small; I don’t need one. But it was a bit chilly in the room; I knew my nipples were showing through the thin cotton, and he noticed. His eyes were back on mine in a heartbeat, and his throat bobbed. I smiled. 

“My office hours are on the syllabus. Drop by anytime, or you can call the office and make an appointment." 

“Okay, I will.”

Professor Solo cleared his throat; he seemed a bit flustered. “Anything else?”

“No. Thank you, Professor. Have a nice day.”

He grumbled something like, “You too.” I could feel his eyes on me as I left the room.

That’s when I decided: I was going to seduce him. 

I showed up at Professor Solo’s office door a few days later, but he wasn’t there. I double checked the schedule: Thursdays 6:15-7:30pm. I was trying to figure out what to do when I heard the jangle of keys behind me. I turned around and there he was, ambling down the hall, hands full. He had a coffee in one hand, what looked like a wrapped sandwich in the other, and a textbook under one arm; his keys were dangling from his pinky. 

“Ah, good evening, Miss Niima.”

“Hi.”

“Could you—” he held out his pinky, indicating that I should take them. I obliged, unlocking the door and letting him enter first. He gestured for me to sit across from him as he started to unwrap his sandwich 

. “I hope you don’t mind, but I haven’t had anything to eat since noon. I have a three-hour class on Thursday afternoons, and there’s just no time. So, you wanted to go over your schedule?”

I showed it to him, and he made some suggestions for next semester. Then he asked me about my aspirations. I told him I wanted to start a non-profit for women and girls that had been abused, and that I might be interested in working in public service down the line. He raised his eyebrows. “Very interesting, Miss Niima. And here I thought the t-shirts were just a fashion statement.”

I glanced down at what I was wearing today: my Malcolm X t-shirt, the one with “By Any Means Necessary” on it. I looked back at him. “Well, I’m not advocating violence, but I do believe social change is necessary.” 

Professor Solo stopped chewing for a moment and nodded. “I agree. Well, If you decide you want to get started on that non-profit, I might be able to help. I have some experience with fundraising, and my mother is a staunch advocate for social justice. She knows some people….” he drifted off. “Well, think about it.”

“I will. Thank you, Professor.”

“Call me Ben,” he smiled.

He was so warm, and also very cool—not to mention kinda hot. It was getting to me; I suddenly felt bold. “Can I see your hand for a moment, Ben?”

He frowned a bit but indulged me, laying his left hand out on the table, palm open. No wedding ring—that was good. I sat forward in my chair. His hands were so big, he probably could have encircled my entire throat with one of them. I traced his heartline with my finger, then stroked a line up his thumb. The picture that flashed in my mind of what his thumb, his fingers, could do to my body was …well, not G-rated. When I looked back up at him, his pupils were enlarged, lips parted.

“Your heartline is long,” I said.

“Is that good?”

I nodded. “It means you’re kind.” 

That seemed to break the spell. Ben pulled his hand away and nodded. “If you say so,” he smiled. “I have an appointment at 6:45, Miss Niima. So, if there isn’t anything else…”

“Call me Rey.” 

He smiled. “Okay, Rey. Drop by anytime,” he said, in that deep, sexy voice of his. “My door is always open to you.”

I’d be sure to take him up on his invitation. 

For the next several weeks, I didn’t get back to Ben’s office. I was busy with classes, studying and my part-time job. I really did look forward to his lectures, though. And I always made sure to show up looking good.

One day, when I was feeling particulary rebellious, I decided to wear my Catholic schoolgirl outfit to class, sandal shoes and all, just to see if he’d notice or say anything. It’s the kind of outfit that always earns male attention. Finn whistled when he saw me outside the door, and Dameron made some typical sexist comment. Whatever; I really didn’t care. Neither one of them was on my radar. 

Ben was calling us to come up to the front of the room, one by one, to get our exams. When he called my name and I walked towards him, hips swaying in my little plaid skirt, I saw the unmistakable shift in his expression. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack. As I took the paper, smiling sweetly, his throat bobbed. I’m sure he had no idea he was doing it, didn’t realize how clearly his emotion was spelled out on his face, that his eyes were telling me he wanted to fuck me into next week. But I knew what I needed to know. And it was ON. 

__________________________________________________ 

I got familiar with Professor Solo’s schedule well and tried to plan my attack carefully. Friday was the best day; it was a light day for him; he had only one morning class, then lunch, and then spent the rest of the day with other activities. I knew he usually returned to his regular room around 1pm and spent some time there before he went off to do whatever else he did. It didn’t seem like he had much of a social life, but one thing I knew for sure was that he wasn’t married, and that made me feel better. 

I entered the empty room, made sure most of the lights were out, and then got comfortable in his chair. I waited. I had chosen to wear his “favorite outfit": the Catholic Schoolgirl uniform. No leggings, though. I was barelegged and had on my saddle shoes. 

While I sat thinking about him, I started touching myself. I was pretty sure, if he found me in his chair that way, he would be too excited not to let me have my way with him. 

I knew there had to be a bit of a "daddy dom" buried in that man, and as it turned out, I was right. He even spanked me with a ruler, for fuck's sake.

I'm not gonna lie: it was pretty hot. 

Even though I didn't come while he was inside me, he was enough of a gentleman to finish me off with his mouth. And I knew he wouldn’t say anything--who was he gonna tell? He had more at stake than I did. I had no intention of getting him in trouble; I liked him. 

I skipped class the following Tuesday; it was the first class I had missed all semester. I was sure he was concerned, but oh well. 

Around 8:30pm, I got a text from him. Funny, because I had put his number in my phone so I could call HIM; not the other way around.

Prof. Solo: Why weren’t you in class? Should I be worried?  
Me: I’m fine. Just had stuff to do today. See you on Thursday. 

I figured that would be the end of it, but a small part of me was hoping that he might say something else. 

After almost ten minutes, another text came through:

Prof. Solo: Okay. Thinking about you, Rey. 

Oh, fuck. What did I do?

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote the first Dark Angel it was meant to be a one shot, but I wanted to explore this dynamic, the power play and strong attraction between a really strong, feminist Rey and her professor, who was used to being in control but might be ready to give it up from time to time. 
> 
> This will be an ongoing series.


End file.
